


Thursday's Child Has Far To Go

by studioghoul



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/studioghoul/pseuds/studioghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t.” Castiel speaks, “Come here often. That is.” So eloquent. He’d probably smack himself if he weren’t so busy holding onto the railing behind him. “Of course you don’t,” The man offers up a smile that lights up Castiel’s whole world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday's Child Has Far To Go

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt found on reddit: A person climbs onto the ledge of their hotel window to commit suicide. When they get there they see someone standing on the ledge of the room next to theirs.
> 
> Work has been re-written and updated as of August 24, 2015.
> 
> Be on the look out for chapter two so long as school doesn't kill me!

Castiel sighs, feeling around his mattress for his phone. Somehow, during the night, it’d ended up under his pillow. He rubs his hand across his face before unlocking his phone, causing him to squint at the light. It appears to be 3:29 A.M. He sighs again. “Great,” he mumbles irritably. Tossing his blankets aside, he sits up and rubs at his face again. He figures it’s acceptable enough to be up this early since he’d slept through the previous afternoon.

~

 

He turns on his music, some quiet classical piece he can’t be bothered to recall the name of right now, as he walks towards the bathroom. He showers and gets ready to the soft melodies of an orchestra. Castiel gets dressed as he would if he were going to work, despite having quit yesterday.

 

He ends up wearing one of his nicer suits, though. Something fit more for a funeral, he supposes. The tie is some blue monstrosity his boss would’ve hated that Gabriel bought for him one Christmas. “…I really should call Gabriel.” He thinks aloud, but the thought is gone as quickly as it surfaced.

 

By the time he’s finished getting ready it’s long after four in the morning.

 

He decides to make himself some coffee. Once the machine beeps to inform him the coffee’s ready, he pours into his favourite mug and walks back to his bedroom.

 

The apartment here is tall. Castiel lives on the 12th floor. The windows are huge and open up to a poor excuse for a balcony. It’s more of a ledge with a railing than a balcony, though. “This really wasn’t a wise decision on this apartment’s behalf.” He mumbles to himself. Because really what else could he think. It’s obviously the perfect place for what he’s about to do.

 

He sits his mug down on his bedside table and walks back over to the windows. He opens up the windows and steps out on the ledge. Grasping on to the railing behind him he peers down at the eleven floors below. “Shit,” He gasps, eyes widening.

 

A man’s voice to his right laughs, startling him. Castiel turns his head in the direction of the sound. There’s a man sitting in the next window over. All cropped hair and leather jacket. And oh. God, this man is beautiful. “Come here often?” A smirk lifts the man’s features. Castiel blinks, taken aback. “Uh,” He mumbles, dumbfounded.

 

Flirting, he realizes. He comes out here to jump to his inevitable death and there’s this beauty of a man with constellations of freckles across his face that are just barely visible in what’s left of the moonlight, a voice like heaven, and the greenest eyes he’s ever seen flirting with him, of all things. He blinks again, realizing he’s been staring for far too long. The man’s smirk seems to grow.

 

“I don’t.” Castiel speaks, “Come here often. That is.” So eloquent. He’d probably smack himself if he weren’t so busy holding onto the railing behind him.

 

“Of course you don’t,” The man offers up a smile that lights up Castiel’s whole world. “It’s not every day someone comes out on the ledge of their window at,” he pauses to check his watch. “5 o’clock in the morning’, huh?” He chuckles softly, offering his hand to Castiel. “The names Dean Winchester.” Castiel’s careful not too lean too far over to shake Dean’s hand.

 

“Castiel Novak” He laughs nervously. Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Castiel, huh?” Castiel looks to his feet, smiling. “Yes. Castiel. It’s the name of the angel of Thursday.” He supplies. “If it’s easier, you may call me Cas.” Dean nods, smiling. “Cas it is then.”

~

“So, Cas,” Dean begins, bringing Castiel out of his staring again. “What brings you out here this morning?” Dean doesn’t mean to intrude, truly, he means well. Castiel bites his lip and stares off at the sun coming up in the distance. “ Would you believe me if I told you I came out here for some air?”

 

Dean laughs softly, shrugging. “I mean, it’s entirely possible. But,”

 

And oh god, there’s a ‘but‘. Of course there’s a ‘but‘. Castiel’s heart nearly beats itself out of his chest.

 

“But,” Dean continues. “In my experience, people don’t just come out on a ledge like this for some fresh air.”

 

Castiel sighs. “No. You’re right. I,” he hesitates a moment, before throwing caution to the wind. “I was gonna jump.” He doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes.


End file.
